To Dream or Love
by AwesomeLass
Summary: A look into Chase's past, one-shot. for my Beyong Will readers


_Disclaimer: I don't, nor pretend to, own the HM franchise. I do have rights over my title and plot._

**To Dream or Love**

"Chase, have you called your grandpa yet?"

"No Yolanda, I'll give him a call later today."

"Well, he called me this morning, wanted to know you got to the island alright."

"I just got here last night. I'll _give_ him a call later _to-day_," Chase repeated more slowly, so Yolanda could understand. He always meant what he said, and he'd planned to call Grandpa David all along.

Yolanda sighed; she knew better than to pester the redheaded cook. When it came to David, however, she had soft spot for the old goose. After all, he had given her the first job as a cook, even if it was a lowly diner. "How was he doing?" Yolanda asked suddenly.

Chase slammed the pan in hand down on the metal stove. "He's fine, you talked to him, you ought to know."

"_I_ didn't go see him," Yolanda insisted, he wasn't the only one that could have a tempter.

"I stopped by to see him, you think if I didn't feel he was doing okay, that I would be here right now?"

Yolanda cocked a brow, but gave in, "no, you wouldn't." It was true, Chase loved his grandfather, and would put his own career on hold just to care for the man. But how could he not? David had raised Chase after his parents died.

The world-famed chef wiped her withered hands on a hand towel and forked a chunk of Chase's new lasagna dish. "It's fantastic, but you still have a lot too learn."

"Oh yeah? Like what?" Chase asked, skeptically.

"Like not depending on seasonings for taste!"

Chase snorted and started shoving ingredients away. "I'm going home, I still have to unpack." What did old lady know anyway? He was destined to become a better and even more famous chef than her, and nothing would get in his way.

"Alright, but come in early tomorrow. I want to go with Colleen to see some merchants. After all these years, she just can't pick good ingredients. Or cook."

"Chase!" Maya piped as she ran inside the kitchen.

"The apple doesn't fall far from the tree," Chase said to Yolanda, and the short woman elbowed him. "Ow!"

"Chase, are you finished? Are you going straight home? I can help you unpack and stuff."

"No, I'll see you all tomorrow."

There really was no other way to avoid being stalked by Maya other than to ignore her. It's not that she was horribly ugly, she just wasn't his type. Then again, not many women were. Maya could make an okay one-nighter but she'd probably become too attached, so even that was out of the question.

Chase turned his knob and slipped inside his home. Towers and towers of boxes welcomed him. He had paid some heavy gold for this plot of land and this house, but it just wasn't as big as his apartment back in the city. Still, traveling all over the world looking for spices forced him to become used to small spaces. He kicked a box out of his way.

The redhead sighed, hung up his apron near the door and took a whiff at his shirt; through all the various dishes he cooked today, he still had a faint orange scent to him. He stripped and collapsed on his equally naked bed; he'd shower in the morning, he was just too tired tonight.

Usually his dreams were visions of unborn creations, recipes to become the object of obsession the following day. If not, his dreams involved him and some girl he'd never met, doing stuff that he wasn't even sure had a word for. Usually his dreams were pleasant, in one way or another. Usually.

"Look at ye," his grandpa said in a strong Irish accent, "look at what's happened to ye." The old man dropped his grandson's hand, leaving Chase near the glass door.

Tonight, however, there was no dream. There was no dream and there was no nightmare. "Daddy?" Chase called on his tiptoes, trying to look at the man on the hospital bed.

Tonight, Chase relived a memory that was too distant to care.

"Oh son," the old man called, "why didn't ye listen? Why? Women will always be nothing but distractions." The wrinkles on his forehead multiplied and deepened, his face not yet decided to look either angry or sad. "I told ye to not let a woman in yer way. I told ye." He moaned in anger. "First she took away yer dream to be an Army man, a fine soldier ye could have been. Then she took away yer freedom, forcing ye to marry her using the gifts and riches the devil himself must have given her." He shook his head and grunted. "Look at ye, _dead_ at best. Now she's taken away yer life." As if on cue, the beat went flat. The old man threw a fist, knocking down a bedside lamp. Chase winced but his courage renewed. He managed a glimpse of his dead father, blood encrusted all over his face with tubes and wires attached to it. A nurse came in and pulled Chase back a little. The old man chuckled a little. "She took away yer life," he croaked. "And all for what? Nothing. I hope her family riches can make up for what yer boy has lost."

A doctor came in, past the nurse that had pulled Chase away, and made her push Chase out of the room. The doctor took the time and scribbled it on his father's chart, then covered his father's body with a thin sheet, not even bothering to close the door so the boy wouldn't see. On their way out, the staff gave his grandfather a few brochures and his parents' last-worn clothing.

The old man hugged his son's outfit to his side, and in a bin threw away those of his daughter-in-law. Before the woman's clothes fell in the trash, two tickets for the opera fell from a bloodied fur coat. Chase picked them up, but after a glare from his grandfather, threw them in the trash with a silent good-bye to his mother.

"Let's go, lad," Grandpa David said.

Chase tossed in his sleep. Not from the memory he'd just dreamt. Not from the sadness he might have felt. He tossed because a mattress without a cover was too uncomfortable for him. He groaned and when the new day's light came in to greet him.

"Ehhhhh," the redhead man moaned. He opened one eye and looked out the window. "I hate mornings," he groaned again. He rubbed his eyes and blindly dialed his grandfather's number on his mobile.

---

When Chase arrived at the Inn. Maya was sitting at one of the tables closest to the kitchen."Hiya Chase!" He arched his brow to show how pathetic he thought she was and went on. "My parents are at the dock, and so is my grandma. She wanted me to go along so I could learn how to pick good ingredients, but I told her I'd stay here and help you instead. Gosh, it's been so long," she said standing up and following him, "but I never forgot your face." She boldly took his hand and pull him back. "Chase, I—"

"I know what you are going to say Maya. You really are too predictable."

"Then why aren't you smiling instead?"

"Because I already gave you an answer, and I'll always keep giving you that answer."

"Why? Why? I want to know! I mean look at me: any guy would be lucky to go out with me."

Chase smirked. "Look kid, you're o.k. Nothing more, nothing less. Get over yourself and definitely get over me." The skin around Maya's eyes puffed and her eyes reddened. "Stop being a baby Maya. Ok. You're a cute girl, I mean it. But first of all, I'm into a different caliber of girls. Secondly, you could never be anything but a distraction for me."

Maya gasped, trying to look offended even if she didn't exactly understand. "Why would you say that!"

"Oh don't act like that, you're only embarrassing yourself even more. You should be thanking m,e anyway. I'm giving it to you straight!"

"It's not fair, you're not even giving me a chance, Chase!"

The smirk on his face faded, and the cook grabbed on to the girl's arms and led her to the nearest wall. He slammed her back against it and cocked his head. A smile twitched across her face for a second.

"Is this what you want?" In a swift movement, his face was only a few centimeters away from hers. Her eyelids drooped, her breath was taken away and her bright eyes fell on his perfect mouth. His breath was making her hotter, and she was beyond ready to melt. She couldn't believe her luck that this was actually happening. _Finally_! "You could never mean anything to me, Maya. I'd only use you, or rather, your body." A heartless and short laugh came out of him. "I can already see it now: you run home crying because I didn't want to cuddle afterwards or because I didn't want you to spend the whole night. Because you wanted more of a commitment from me. Because your stupid little heart is broken. I'm trying to warn you kid, okay?" He smirked and got closer to her lips. "Is that what you want?" he whispered, "because I'd just be adding your faceless body to a long list of girls whose names I'll never remember."

The tears Maya had been holding back during his speech, finally escaped to no avail to her feelings. She freed from his grasp easily and ran out of the Sundae Inn.

The cook straightened and went back into the kitchen. So there was definitely not going to be a chance for a one-nighter with Maya, but at least she would stop being a pest. A distraction. He turned to the recipe he'd written while on the phone with his grandfather. Like his many other recipes, they were flawless.

Chase smiled to himself as he stirred the sauce. After a few more seasons with Yolanda, nothing would get in the way of his dream. Nothing.


End file.
